Red Wine

I remember walking in the local grocery store wondering if all shoppers that day knew of my mission. I was going to buy my first bottle of wine. Little did I realize the variety of bottles that would be awaiting my decision. Did I dare ask someone for help? Embarrassing. Purchasing my very first bottle was not nearly as exciting as I had anticipated. I ended up grabbing something that had a familiar city and "sweet" in its name.

I remember thinking at checkout how cool it was that wine bottles have their own little paper bags, but how uncool it was that I needed my ID. Digging in my wallet meant more time standing at the register. More time at the register meant more opportunities for people to see my purchase. Never once did it occur to me that buying a bottle of vino was quite normal.

Amazingly enough I have survived days, weeks, months on very little sleep. Sleeping pills, warm milk, herbs have all made their way through my body. I've tried running myself to death, praying myself to sleep and counting sheep. I had never tried the wine experiment. Searching the cabinets I asked myself, "Coffee mug or dinner glass?"

My husband tells the story of finding me later, blissfully dreaming on the couch. Apparently my right arm was draped carelessly over the edge, coffee mug hanging on for dear life by nothing more than my pinky finger. I was absorbed in sleep, completely unaware of the courageous little dangling porcelain container.

Thanks to a godly counselor I now am sleeping much better, but I smile when I hear my husband tell of my desperate attempt to rest. When I hear him recall the memory of finding me that evening, I am transported into a place in time where I could not do anything, say anything, or be anything other than a confident, content sleeper. I rested well.

The confident, content "me" that rested securely on the couch that evening now rests in my Abba's love. I like the confident, content "me" who, amidst stares and whispering voices that my question my motives, feels empowered to make choices. Each choice I make reflects a unique "me" creatively designed and planned by God. That is enough to allow rest, to allow hope.

I choose to hope, knowing that nothing can separate me from His love. I choose to hope, resting in His unconditional love. I choose to hope, and that is a decision I can both live - and sleep with. Even now there is hope.